He Takes Me On Wild Adventures
Here he is, my friend said, tearing off a pink silk scarf with a flourish.
I was confused. This was just a storybook, right?
Don’t you recognize him? She asked me.
On the cover was a stern looking old guy.
I shook my head “no”.
Don’t you have dreams about him?
I began to laugh, and could not stop.
Not that guy! I told her. He looks a hundred. We are twelve.
I dream of him nightly, she told me.
He takes me to wild adventures.
I believe she is certifiable now.
Maybe she is.
He is Chandu, the Magician, she says. As if that means something.
I beg her to loan the book to me, but she says “not tonight!”
“Tonight we are flying a magic carpet to Egypt.”
I am torn. Should I stay over or run like a hungry cheetah?
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